


lift the hurt I've felt before

by haipollai



Category: Captain America
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, M/M, Steve likes sex, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 23:41:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/667805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haipollai/pseuds/haipollai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The boy screams and Steve immediately forgets about the dangers and risks. He doesn't care about the bad guy who was trying to kill them a moment ago because he knows that voice. He'd know it anywhere.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Where Bucky was, there's now is a teenage boy.</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>And he's screaming.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	lift the hurt I've felt before

The boy screams and Steve immediately forgets about the dangers and risks. He doesn't care about the bad guy who was trying to kill them a moment ago because he knows that voice. He'd know it anywhere.

Where Bucky was, there's now is a teenage boy.

And he's screaming.

Bucky is all pointy elbows and knees, too thin in some places, beginning to bulk up in others. Puberty clashing with an intense training regimen. Steve tries not to look at his shoulder but he can't keep his eyes away. The fingers of one hand claw at the join of metal and flesh. It looks like he's been shot. Except it wasn't a bullet that he was hit with. Metal protrudes from his skin, sticking out like a grotesque tumor. And there's blood, too much blood.

Steve feels a metal hand come down on his shoulder and he lets himself be pulled back, lets Tony have room. He can't hear what he's saying, his ears are still full of Bucky's screams. But Tony's talking to him, telling him to get back and help the others, he'll do more good there, _go Steve_. His shield - _Bucky's_ shield - is thrust into his arms and it's as if he's on autopilot, someone else in his skin but he turns and assesses and he's a soldier. He's Captain America again, if only for a little bit.

His limbs burn as the fight drags on and at Tony's request, Hulk becomes Bruce and the rest of them have to step it up to fill the void.

It's only a chance, a pile of rubble shifts when Thor leaps up to get closer to his brother and they both come crashing down. But in the ensuing chaos of limbs and stone and dust, their attacker - they didn't even get a name - slips away and they're left with nothing.

Steve makes his body keep moving, hovering behind Tony and Bruce. He wishes Stephen was there as well, but the sorcerer was away with personal business. In all his books, there could easily be some answer.

The screams have stopped but only because Bucky's fallen unconscious. Steve has Thor on one side and Sam on the other, he's trying not to think too much about the fact they're there in case he snaps. Luckily neither tries to provide any kind of comfort, a simple touch to the shoulder feels like it would be enough to drive him to his knees.

“ Our friends will find some way to fix this trickery," Thor says softly.

"This isn't trickery, pal," Tony says, not looking over. "This is some real fancy science. But we'll fix it Steve, we'll figure it out"

Steve nods weakly and feels the rushing winds from the Quinjet. He can hear the roar of the engines and Natasha is there as well now. Tony scoops up Bucky, careful of the metal arm. He’s unconscious and no one tells Steve if it’s from drugs or pain. On the ride back Bruce explains that whatever had been used could only change natural materials, therefore his shoulder’s a mess.

“So is he just smaller or actually a teenager again?” Sam asks.

“We won't know that until he's awake.”

“And not screaming,” Tony adds flatly, sounding as tired as Steve feels.

Bruce grimaces and looks up at Clint and Natasha in the pilot seats. Steve can feel it as the Quinjet picks up speed. It’s touching, how much they’re all doing for Bucky.

He manages to fall into a fitful sleep for some of the ride but keeps on jerking himself awake, looking anxiously for Bucky. Each time he doesn't feel like he slept at all. He knows he must have though because Tony is down to his undersuit and the armor is neatly packed away but he's still bent over a computer screen. Steve gets up and goes to Bucky. He can’t remember the last time Bucky had looked so thin.

“It needs to be removed,” Tony says softly. “All of it, even the shit inside him that the arm hooked up to. It doesn’t fit anymore. Unless Thor finds us another option soon, or maybe Stephen gets back. Doped him up to keep him out for awhile, that shit’s got to hurt.”

Steve nods wordlessly and holds Bucky’s real hand, surrounding it in his. He stays there until they land.

No one says a word as they all follow Bruce and Tony, Steve cradling Bucky in his arms. The doctors bring them a gurney, and Bruce and Tony disappear with him into an operating room. Clint also disappears for a bit but returns with coffee for all of them. Caffeine doesn't do much for Steve but he drinks it anyway. The burn on his tongue shocks his system more awake at least.

They're made to stand in the hallway while Bruce and Tony go in to direct the doctors. Natasha stands at the small viewing window, watching as they remove the arm. Steve tries for a few minutes but seeing Bucky and his now mismatched arm unconscious on the table makes him feel sick. Clint and Sam sit beside him as they wait. 

He thinks he fell asleep with his head on Sam's shoulder at some point but everything is flat and nothing breaks one moment from the next until Tony stumbles out.

“Well?” Natasha demands.

“Arm is off. He'll be fine. Except for the being physically a pimply teenager thing. Dunno what to do with that. Should sleep.” He punctuates his statement with a yawn. He looks at Steve and looks like he might say something else but just shakes his head. “Gonna find an empty bed.”

“He might have a good idea there,” Clint says and Steve knows he's looking at him but Steve isn't sure he can sleep so while the others drift away, he goes into Bucky's room, not surprised when Natasha pulls up another another chair and joins him. Sam stays outside, keeping an eye on them from there.

He knows he sleeps this time because he jerks away and almost falls out of his chair. It takes a second to figure out what woke him up but then he feels it again, a soft touch to his thigh. A hurried look around reveals Natasha is curled up tightly and seems to be asleep.

“Steve?” His accent is thick, dripping of Brooklyn like it is during early mornings, when they’re half awake and have no where to be and no reason to be any more awake then they are. The note of pain in his voice is wrong though, destroying any illusion. His eyes are still hazy from the drugs but they’re looking at Steve and he’s reaching for him.

“Hey Buck.” He takes Bucky’s hand, tries not to think about how easily his hand dwarfs Bucky’s now. “You in there?”

“Barely. Hurts.”

“Your shoulder’s messed up. You'll be ok, promise.”

Bucky nods slightly and closes his eyes again. “Gonna sleep.”

Steve nods and kisses Bucky’s knuckles, whispering against his skin that he’ll be right here. Even when the doctors come to check on him, Steve stays until Bucky wakes up a few hours later, looking more aware. Natasha has gone home, now that they know for sure Bucky is going to be okay, dragging Sam with her.

Bucky pushes himself up carefully, takes in the missing arm with a glance, more focused on the rest of himself. "Steve…"

"Right here."

"I'm a kid. I'm physically…this is like…"

"When we first met," Steve finishes.

It gets Bucky to stop looking at himself, and the crease between his brows eases. "You're a pervert, Rogers. Checking out sixteen year old kids?"

"I don't know if I'd call you a kid."

Bucky doesn't laugh and his hand drifts over to his shoulder, feeling where it ends. "Woulda been nice if that came back," he mutters. Steve carefully pulls Bucky's hand away, holds it tighter in his own. He has to remind himself that Bucky's breakable now. Steve can feel it in the fragile bones under Bucky's skin.

"I'm sure Tony is resizing the metal one now so you won't be stuck like this- I mean-"

"I know what you mean Rogers." He smiles shakily but at least he's trying. "Do I have to wait here until they figure out how to make me normal again or can I at least go home?"

Steve glances at the door. They've been left alone since there's nothing technically wrong with Bucky, despite being the wrong age. "Let's go home." He reaches for the bag Kate had brought by earlier ("don't ask where I got them, just don't mind Billy if he looks at you funny."). There's clothes, just as promised. Bucky sighs in relief as he slips out of the hospital gown and into jeans and a t-shirt. Kate's right, they do fit. Steve swallows hard because they fit better then anything Bucky owns himself.

Bucky glances at him over his shoulder before Steve can school his expression back to anxiously worried. "Maybe this won't be so bad."

"Bucky," Steve says stiffly, trying to get this back under control. 

"Don't be stern with me, you're allowed to look." He walks out before Steve can form a protest. "Anyway," he calls over his shoulder as Steve double times it to catch up. Bucky's still fast but Steve catches up, he always catches up. "It's not like we waited until I was eighteen before."

"That was…" Steve starts automatically but trails off. 

"Don't you fucking say it was different. I'm giving you my consent to pin me to the bed and fuck me until we forget for five fucking minutes that I'm missing an arm," Bucky hisses, rounding on him in the middle of the hallway. A nurse does a quick double step to keep from running into them. "Or that for the moment I'm apparently stuck like this. Don't make me beg Steve." Bucky leans in to kiss him and he has to stand up on his toes to do it.

"I like when you beg," he whispers against Bucky's lips.

Someone clears their throat and they both turn to see Natasha and Sam. Sam sighs dramatically. "This thing with you two is going to get way worse now that he's got the libido of a teenager again, isn't it?"

"I think James has always had the libido of a teenager," Natasha smirks.

"If you're going to break out of the hospital, it's usually smarter to not stop half way to make out," Sam continues.

She holds out a tightly bound package, long and cylindrical. "This might make things easier as well."

Bucky takes it and holds it tightly but doesn't open it just yet.

"Come on, we'll escort you." Sam nudges Steve's shoulder and they fall in step together, Sam on one side and Natasha on the other. Steve keeps his arm around Bucky's shoulders, left side pressed to his right needing to keep him safe. 

-

Their first time together was in a hotel two blocks away from Camp Lehigh. It had been stupid, beyond stupid. But they'd gone to a movie after dealing with German spies on American soil and it wasn't enough to burn off the adrenaline. Bucky had kept on leaning close to whisper in his ear during the film and one time Steve had turned at the exact right moment and their lips touched.

The theater had been mostly empty so no one saw, but Steve has always been sure he wouldn't have cared. Not with the way Bucky's pupils had dilated and he'd sucked hard on his lower lip, as if trying to burn the taste of Steve onto his tongue.

-

Steve rests his head on his arms, watching Bucky as he slowly stretches out, eyes fixed on the ceiling. He holds up the arm, spreading the fingers. It's an external prosthetic, not like the last arm which fit into his shoulder. His control isn't as fine as with the arm he had before, but he looks less off balance.

"What if they can't change me back."

Steve stretches one arm over Bucky's waist. "It could be worse."

"I hate when people say that, it's the worst jinx and you know that." Bucky rolls into him, fitting against him easily and it's as if they're back in the war, tucked up in a cot, clinging to one small moment of calm. "Being sixteen was hard enough the first time around. Don't want to do it again."

"You could be ten."

Bucky snorts softly and elbows him. "Ok fine. It could be worse." Steve holds Bucky tighter.

-

They promise some fix for it. Something to make him the age he's supposed to be. But a few days become a week, become two weeks. Tony talks about fitting the arm to him properly, fixing all the hookups so he could have an arm that worked like a normal one.

Bucky keeps putting it off, it feels so permanent.

But every morning he wakes up and looks in the mirror and still sees an overgrown kid, he feels the chances of any kind of fix fading away.

Steve tries to assure him it'll be okay, no matter what. Bucky shrugs and sneaks into the gun range. Technically he's not supposed to be there, but the solid weight of his specialized Baretta in hand makes him feel better. Age and regulations and stupid rules.

He'd like someone to try to kick him out right then.

The arm makes loading the magazine difficult and jerky and he decides then to screw it. He'll go through with getting the new arm.

Sam is the first one to approach him at the range, which means someone saw Bucky there and told. Steve can't be far away. Bucky hits the button to bring the target closer and glares at him from the corner of his eye.

"You want to get out into the field again?"

The question throws him off and he fumbles with the gun, getting out the magazine. "I wasn't thinking that far ahead."

Sam nods. "Shrinks will want to talk to you."

"Shrinks always want to talk."

"How are things with Steve?"

Bucky purses his lips. Steve's been good, but he's been Steve. Wanting to help, but this is something he can't fix. And sometimes seeing the guilt, the need in Steve to do the right thing, it got hard. "It could be worse," he finally says. "Could have been turned 16 again mentally. Or younger."

"From what I understand, your relationship with Steve wasn't too much different then."

Bucky lets the gun drop to the table with a solid thunk. "The first time around, Steve fucked me when I asked, instead of just holding me and saying he's not _sure_. He let me follow him into the goddamn fight. So no. You don't understand." He turns and walks out, not waiting for a response. He doesn't feel like being anywhere near SHIELD anymore.

He can't get a drink, no ID. But he can get into a fight. It doesn't take much to rile up some frat boys, get them to throw a few punches. He swings back.

And misses.

He's used to his body being bigger, larger. He's used to muscles that haven't quite developed yet and a metal arm that works as smoothly as his real one. He manages to compensate but not before the other guys manage to land a few blows. There are going to be bruises on his stomach and his nose feels a little wobbly. As he walks away from them, limp and clutching at broken ankles, he pokes at it, trying to figure out if it's actually broken or not.

Steve is waiting for him.

Bucky isn't surprised. He can't figure out if he's happy about it or not. Steve had probably been there for awhile, had let them beat up those guys.

He holds up a brown paper bag. "Come home?"

"Are you bribing me home with liquor?" Bucky asks incredulously.

Steve shrugs. "Will it work?" Bucky sighs softly and lets Steve pull him against him, lets him press kisses to his forehead and temple and cheek, careful of his quickly forming black eye and nose. "You know, you have about five more nose breaks at least before it looks like it used to."

"It's not broken. You know, everyone's going to think you're a pervert, making out with a kid like me."

"You're not a kid, I know who you are even if I'm crap at showing it sometimes. Home?"

Bucky nods and slips his arm around Steve's waist. "What's in the bag?" He asks after a few steps.

"Surprise."

"Is it vodka?"

"Nope, you have to be good before I buy you vodka, that's expensive."

Bucky rolls his eyes. "You never buy cheap stuff no matter what kind of alcohol is."

"If I can't get drunk from it, I might as well enjoy drinking it." They don't say anything until they're on the subway, Bucky hides his face against Steve's chest, not wanting to deal with people and their stares. "I learned that from you, you know," Steve whispers into his ear. "How to enjoy myself."

"You're still crap at it," Bucky mumbles.

"That's why I need you."

-

They're well behaved up until Steve's door closes behind them and Bucky's kissing him, kissing him with everything he has, trying to show Steve everything he's missed out on. He tries not to think about how easily Steve picks him up, hands sliding underneath his thighs.

Every touch makes Bucky's skin burn. They strip off clothing as they make their way to their bed. Bucky reaches immediately for Steve's stash of lube, pressing it into Steve's hand and whispering please.

Steve hesitates but nods. He thrusts in agonizingly slow, dragging out each second and Bucky's sure he's going to come before they even start. Steve pauses when he's buried completely inside him, which Bucky won't admit he's grateful for but he needs the moment. Steve slowly drags his finger down from Bucky's throat to his navel, eyes fixed on the way Bucky's body arches to meet his touch.

"I forgot," he whispers, voice rough and hoarse, "I forgot how sensitive you used to be." He pays special attention to his shoulder, where the arm fits over his shoulder. He's scarred again, but not like before. There's soft baby skin still poking out between the scars and it's achingly sensitive. 

Bucky comes twice before Steve does. He's sore and sensitized and Steve's heavy weight feels like the only thing keeping him grounded.

He sleeps, he knows he must have because he wakes up on his side with Steve's arm around him and the steady rise and fall of Steve's chest against his back. His body immediately jumps to attention, noticing every line of Steve's body pressed to his back but Bucky still has some control and pushes the hormones away. Or tries too, Steve's hand is warm against his chest, one knuckle just lightly brushing a nipple each time he breathes. 

Very carefully, he squirms away from Steve and makes his way to the kitchen. The bottle in its brown paper bag is there where Steve left it on the counter. Bucky carefully pulls it out and smiles. "You liar."

There's a note in the bag too, he doesn't know when Steve put it in there, but it's definitely his handwriting. Bucky reads it twice before taking it and the bottle back into the bedroom. Steve is awake now, waiting for him. He doesn't fight as Bucky rolls him onto his back, straddling his hips. He holds out the note so Steve can see.

"Yes," he says matter-of-factly. It's a question Steve didn't even need to ask.

"Yes?"

"Yes, I'm going to be your fucking partner you idiot. I don't trust anyone else except Sam and Nat to watch your back. And even then…" He shrugs and opens the vodka and takes a sip. "Fuck that needs to chill."

Steve laughs, low and rough and Bucky can feel the vibrations curling up through his legs. He has to bite his lip to keep from moaning. "Sorry, too busy kissing you to worry about the vodka."

"You're such a disappointment." Bucky leans down to kiss him before sliding off once more to put the vodka away. Steve is right where he left him, arms open wide for Bucky to curl up in.

"You're okay?" Steve whispers. Bucky is almost asleep and doesn't do more then grunt. He's too comfortable to form words and he thinks that should answer Steve's question well enough. "Like this I mean, as a teenager."

Bucky shrugs. "Just don't treat me like a kid." Steve kisses his shoulder, the back of his neck, the bare skin behind his ear. "Cheater." His body is torn between wanting sleep and wanting sex and if Steve doesn't let him make a decision soon, he's pretty sure he's going to explode.

"The first time we met, you were beating the shit out of four well trained soldiers. You've never been a kid to me." He sucks a mark onto the back of Bucky's neck and this time Bucky doesn't hold back, rocking back against Steve.

"That's a lie but I'll allow it."

Steve laughs, a soft huff of air over Bucky's neck. His hand moves down, wrapping around his cock, drawing a pleased moan from Bucky. "Thanks, Sergeant. Happy to have your permission."

-

Two years pass. Of being a secret, of fake IDs being the norm and strange looks when he's out in the middle of the day instead of in school. Two years where he and Steve had to be constantly careful of being in public, so no one could accuse Captain America of being a pedophile.

He gave up hoping that he would change back after a few months. It was a waste of energy that he just didn't have. 

With a bit of prodding, Fury sees the value in a highly trained teenager, just like Phillips did years ago. They give him a uniform and a Baretta adjusted to his slightly smaller grip. A better arm. The works and it turns out to not be all bad to be a teenager. Steve sometimes feels guilty, holds him tightly and whispers he should have found a way, to make Bucky normal again. But that stops too after awhile. This becomes their normal.

The public is told that James Barnes is dead and only the dead and dying can recognize the teen sometimes spotted with the Avengers. There are rumors about who he is, or might be, but he ducks out of the way of the cameras and ignores their questions.

He has Steve to go home to, who brings home beer as long as Bucky remembers to buy lube. He has Steve who kisses his hands after each mission and murmurs that he's more then the blood he's spilled and how good his aim is.

He's turning eighteen (for the second time). Natasha insists on a cake, despite Bucky preferring to hide his head under a pillow and Sam says everyone has to bring presents that aren't alcohol. Bucky's never hated modern laws so much. He thinks he can perhaps keep everything quiet and low key, until Toro shows up. Then Bucky knows he's doomed.

There's cake just as promised and the whole team is crowded into their apartment. 

It's kind of nice at first, until it just hits that point where Bucky is ready to hide from everyone for awhile. Steve picks up on it quickly, without a word from Bucky. He tells them he needs to give Bucky his own present now and they really don't want to be around for that.

They get a few smirks and a few terrified looks but everyone filters out. At the last second Toro sticks his head back in, and they can hear Anne from the hall telling him to stop being a brat. "Open my present before you two start anything." And then he's gone and they're finally all alone. Bucky feels like he can breathe again.

"What do you think he got you?" Steve mouths his neck.

"Lube. Lots of flavors. Told me," Bucky sighs, dropping his head back and letting Steve leave any marks he wanted.

"That's no fun," Steve murmurs absently, more focused on turning his neck into a bruise then the conversation.

"You know what's fun?" Bucky grins. Steve hums softly in answer. "There's cake left." He pulls away from Steve, slowly sauntering over to the kitchen, stripping out of his clothes as he goes. He doesn't need to look back to know Steve is following.

He pauses at the table and glances back to see Steve lingering in the doorway, just watching him. "This is legal now. Again. You and me," he says softly.

Bucky runs his finger through the frosting on the leftover cake and leisurely sucks it clean. "Because we cared so much about the law before."

Steve finally moves, crowding him against the table. His eyes bore into Bucky's, keeping him from looking away. He scoops up more frosting and leaves a long smear over Bucky's chest, following his fingers with his mouth. "Happy birthday, Buck," he murmurs against his skin. "You're legally an adult again."

"Thank fuck."

Steve's mouth moves lower, following a line of frost that Bucky keeps extending, leaving one long smear on his cock before the frosting is forgotten completely. 

-

Steve rocks back on his heels and looks up at Bucky, eyes closed, hair sticking to his temples. There's a web of saliva and bite marks over his torso. The line between metal and flesh is still a sharp one, with twisted scars from two years ago when his body was forced backwards in time. Steve stands smoothly and kisses the worst of the scars where his metal collarbone had broken through the skin.

He'd had other surgeries since then, replacing what was put in during that first heart wrenching day as his body grew. He would have to have a few more, before his bones were finished growing and fusing to make sure everything still fit together properly. 

Bucky lets out a shaky breath, one hand curling loosely around Steve's arm, tugging weakly but Steve doesn't need anything more to lean down to kiss him. As Steve draws back, Bucky sucks on his lower lip. As if trying to burn Steve's taste into his memory.

"So was that my present?" Bucky murmurs, eyes opening a crack.

Steve grins and leans down to kiss him again. "That was only the beginning."

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Paloma Faith's Freedom.  
> Prettty sure this is Lanyon's fault. At the very least she encouraged the idea of Bucky never becoming normal again, so that's her fault.


End file.
